Utterly Mad

Amy & Flynn

"Yeah it is, I heard he's on a quest to cure the west.", a woman whispers to you, her gaze not breaking away from "AJ". "Now, you down there. Good sir, what ails ya?" Leaning over the other side of the coach, giving you a nice view of his flabby seat. "Well sir, I'd like to impress more people. But unlucky for me my eyesight is poorer than a one-eyed mole." You hear a whimpery voice squeak out. "Ahh, poor eyesight. Well I have just the tonic for you good sir, in the great flavor of mint no less!"

He turns around letting you get a full-view of his face, its fatter and much older than you expected for such a "young" entrepreneur. He pulls out a vial of bright-orange liquid, giving it a good shake he turns and tosses it down to the man on the ground. The man with many ailments takes a long swig of the medicinal drink, licking his lips and giving out a satisfied, "Mmmmmh! Hot dang that was tasty, and I feel rejuvenated!" The weak looking man, tosses the bottle up in the air, puffs his chest and whips out his gun. Blasting the bottle into glass shards, with it raining down over the General Stores roof. "See the power of AJ's Own Tonics? They'll cure you of what ails you, syphilis, flu, the runs, dysfunction, and they even have the power of restoring your sight and giving you the youth and vigor of a enraged youngin!"

With his final sales pitch, the crowd buys into it and immediately they all start requesting bottles of all kinds.

Duncan

You put the Deer Corn in the back corner of the shop, Mikey would come in tonight to start getting its contents out. You go and grab the crate from your cousin, whose plaid shirt is now dripping with sweat. "What *pant* kinda action Duncan?", he says exhaling for a while before cracking his back and stepping inside the shop.

"Gonna get me some of that Jerky Georgie though I suppose I should go make sure that my two youngers aren't goofing about. Thanks for the help." He said with a tip of his hat as he heads back outside. He had a feeling Flynn would be off to the Saloon, no doubt playing with those damn knives again. On that note, he decides to head over in that general direction.

The Ricochet Siblings

Duncan: You head outside and immidiately see your brother heading behind some miracle cure wagon, with your sister standing outside the general store. Both your brother and sister are in the cure wagon's shade, and both look stupefied and amused at something they just witnessed.

But before you can react your sister emerges from the shade and stomps up to the front of the wagon.

Amy: The group gasps at your sudden outburst, and most start stepping backwards away from the wagon. "Hrm? Oh, what ain't right little missy?" He says grabbing more tonic and handing it out to the few stranglers that weren't taken back by your courage to speak out.

"What's all this fuss about?" Duncan said in his usual gruff voice. He made his way through the crowd easily to take his place next to his sister. He then asked again, "What're yall yelling bout?"

Ricochet Siblings

"W-well I-I uhhh...." The salesman stuttered. Slowly tucking his tonics in the top compartment of his wagon, he shouted, "BORRIS THEY'RE UNTO US, GET IN THE FUCKING WAGON NOW!" The once wimpy man spoke in a heavy Russian accent, "Feck, I knew you'd blow it. You don't even look like AJ." Borris jumped and got a good grip around the handle on the coach, and "AJ" swats the reigns against the horses. He plows through the crowd, sending his would-be customers flying out of the way or being trampled under the horses' hooves and the coaches' wheels.

"Well sonofabitch! THIS SHIT IS A SCAM!" One bystander calls out after scraping off the label, revealing it was some knock-off tonic that was probably worse for you than the real deal. "Mine tasted like horse piss." Another disappointed customer says shattering the bottle against the dirt street. Slowly the crowd disperses, their arms hanging low at their sides.

Maybe false hope is better then no hope at all.

Amy: You remember what you felt inside the paper bag. It was something akin to a Whiskey bottle, it smells nice and sweet. Like a sarsaparilla mixed with maple syrup.

"Yes, there are things that we still need to do. Flynn, I'm going to trust you to take the wagon to the blacksmith to get the axle changed. Amy, please grab the malk. I need to head to the bar real quick." Duncan said with a sigh as he went to the saloon.

Duncan

You pass by some drunken lout pissing himself right next to the entrance, making sure you don't disturb the clearly "sober" man. You swing the bar doors open and are greeted by the sights and sounds of a dusty old bar that has clearly never seen any better days. The barman is working a full counter of saddened cowboys drinking their troubles away, the upstairs is filled with lonely guys looking for an eventful night, and finally the pianist in the far corner is slamming away on those keys like this were his last day to live.

Flynn

It started to cool down in town, you could see people beginning to light their oil lanterns outside their homes and stores. Clanking could be heard even from two blocks away, dark smoke poured out of the open barn doors like an evil gas pouring out of The Gates of Hell. You take one last breath of clean air and head inside. You see a large butch man hammering away at a long jagged stretch of glowing hot metal, chunks of burned mineral flying off in every direction. He looks up and spots you, without saying a word he points the hammer to two axles laying on the table, makes the 'OK' sign and then gestures for you to skedaddle after you grab the supplies.